Believing is Deceiving
by DreamShadows
Summary: After a fight with his father nineteen year old Sam Winchester only has one choice left. Leave. Only it's never that simple is it? SFTCOLARS challenge fic. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys... This fic is a SFTCOL(AR)S's secret Santa fic for **DiamondUnicorn**... A fic which I hope she likes... Now, I would list the guidelines for the fic, but that would give it away...

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, not even the plot, which belongs to DiamondUnicorn, I only write for my sadistic muses, and of course my readers... Plus my prompt givers...

**Warning: **Will be limp!Sam... Hurt(emotional)!Sammy also...

Now onto the first chapter of, 'Believing is Deceiving...'

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"I can't believe you!" John Winchester yelled at his youngest son, while his oldest watched on in shock. "I cannot _believe_ you would betray your family like this. That you would turn your back on us. All for what? Some- some school?" The dark glare that was cast Sam's way, made the youngest Winchester flinch, but he stood his ground.

"Dad, calm down. It's not the end of the world, I just want to go to college. I am _not _betraying your or Dean, I just think there's more to life than hunting." Sam told his father pleadingly. "I'm not even talking about not hunting, I just want to go to Stanford, and we could make arrangements so that I could hunt on the weekends, or during school breaks."

"The supernatural don't wait for the weekend or school breaks to attack; it happens all the time." John's voice was cold and condescending, as if trying to talk sense into a wayward two year old. "You really want to let all those people die, just so you can go to college?" He asked, his tone accusing.

"Don't you _dare _try to guilt me into staying here." Sam growled, surprising both Dean and his father. "Hunting wasn't invented the night mom was killed dad, and it sure as hell won't stop if I go to college. I'm just one hunter dad, it doesn't make much of a difference if I'm there to help you hunt. It's not like you let me do much more than researching anyway, so I just can't fathom why you would be so upset that I wanted to do it less often." Sam's voice held the same condescending tone that his father's had held just moments before, and both men across from him looked shocked.

He never saw the fist coming until it was too late. Staggering from the blow, Sam grabbed onto the dining table, trying to steady himself from the numbing blow that had just plowed into the side of his face.

"I can't believe you!" Sam hissed, unconsciously quoting his father. "So is this what happens every time something doesn't go your way? You hit something, _someone?"_ There was an edge to Sam's voice, telling his father that it wasn't a question that he really expected or wanted to be answered.

"Sammy-" John started, guilt already lining his face.

"Don't you Sammy me, dad. You've wanted to do that for a long time. I know, and you know it. Hell Dean probably knows it too. Isn't that right Dean?" Sam asked, drawing his un-expecting brother into the fray.

"Wha-?" Dean asked, not really knowing what was happening around him, just trying to follow the fact that Sam was talking about leaving, that Dad was yelling, that Sammy was yelling back. That his father had actually _hit _Sammy.

"You leave your brother out of this, it's between you and me." John growled, his guilt all but gone.

"Yeah it is between you and me, _dad._" Sam agreed, adding a touch of loathing to the last word. "It's always been between you and me, hasn't it? You're just mad that I'm not taking your shit anymore!" Sam yelled, and John snapped.

One second John and Sam were feet apart, the next second John had Sam pinned to the wall, his hands fisted in Sam's shirt. "You watch what you say," John growled, not really caring that it was Sam that he had pinned to the wall, just wanting to get his point across.

"What, you gonna _make _me?" Sam taunted, almost goading his father. "You gonna _hit _me again?" Sam asked, mocking his father.

John gave a snort of disgust, and with a last shove, let Sam go. "You're gonna throw that in my face?" He asked, curiosity and anger intermingling in his voice.

"Why not? I'm the one who's gonna have to live with the bruise for the next couple weeks." Sam sneered.

"Yeah you will, and what a well earned bruise it was." John shot back. After a minute, he smiled. "You wanna leave? Fine. You want to turn your back on everything and everyone you've ever known? Fine! But just to let you know, you walk out that door, you _never _come back!" John yelled, the vehemence in his tone, telling both boys that he wasn't lying.

"Fine!" Sam yelled back, grabbing his already packed duffle, and walking towards the door. "Just don't come crying to me when you come to your senses, _old man._ Not everything revolves around hunting, not everyone can pretend that they can't feel, that they don't want." With that, Sam walked out and slammed the door behind him.

As he walked down the street, Sam just hoped that Dean found the letter he had left for him. He didn't want Dean to think that he hated or abandoned him. Shaking the thought out of his mind, Sam continued walking, trying to figure out what he would do, how he would get the California, and how to live his life without his family.

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John stared in shock at the door. He still couldn't believe that his son had actually walked out on them, on _him._ He had thought that once he made Sam choose, family or school, that he would make the logical choice, and choose his family.

Problem was... Sam _wasn't _logical.

Hell, Sam didn't follow anything in the Winchester history. He had never been like Dean, had never followed orders, or saw the world the way everyone else did. Sam was too much like Mary for his own good. Questioning, curious, never satisfied; Sammy was exactly like his mother.

_Oh Mary, what have I done?_

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_Sammy? _Dean's brain couldn't quite comprehend what had happened in the last few minutes. He knew that Sam had been talking about Stanford, and that his father hadn't liked the fact that Sam had been talking about leaving and turning his back on his family.

Then he had seen his father hit Sam. Actually _hit _Sam.

His father had never harmed either of them. He was a good father. Harsh? Yes. But all in all, John Winchester was a good man, and a good father. He had never deliberately raised a hand to strike either of them, and the shock that Dean had seen in the man's eyes once he had realized what he had done, had told Dean that the man hadn't meant to hit Sam.

Sam, of course, hadn't.

He believed that their father had meant to hit him, that he had actually wanted to hurt him. He had seen it in his brother's eyes, he had seen the resolve that had settled there after his father had landed the blow. Sam thought their father meant what he had done, and his little brother wasn't one to let things go.

Sam had taunted, _mocked _their father, just trying to get another rise out of him. And he had. Their father had slammed Sam into the wall, hard enough to break something. Dean had seen the anger in his father's eyes, clouding the judgment that usually settled there.

But that hadn't even been the worst of it. Dean had seen Sam flinch, and recoil in shock when his father had laid down his choices. Family or Sam's dream of a normal life. He had seen Sam struggle with the choice, but then Sam had looked into his father's eyes, and he had seen the anger, had seen what he had figured was resolve that hunting was more important than anything...

And as Dean had thought, Sam exploded.

_God Sammy, why did you have to be so emotional? _

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A/N: Well there you have it... Sam's gone, and both John and Dean are feeling the guilt... wanna rack it up?

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter...

Take care and review often...

OSS


	2. Chapter 2

Okay so it seems the last chapter went over pretty well… I thank everyone for their wonderful reviews, they warm this author's heart!

I just wanted to tell you all that this story is **NOT **beta'd… I wanted to see if I still got it…

I know that the last chapter wasn't exactly chock full of Limp!Sam… But you gotta pace yourself… Right?

Well anyways enjoy the chapter….

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**Three Weeks Later: **

Sam walked backwards on the South Dakota highway with his thumb up. It was a gesture that had become familiar to him in the last three weeks, hitching rides had been his way of travel. He had made it from Massachusetts to South Dakota that way, and who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

'_If it works, it works...'_

A little silver Mazda slowed to a stop beside him, and Sam grinned. When the automatic window rolled down, Sam bent and threw a dimpled smile at the driver. The petite brunette smiled back at him, and asked, "Where you headed?"

"Towards California, so however far you can take me would be appreciated." Sam threw what Dean would have called the 'hot chick,' another smile, and she nodded at him.

"Get in," she said, reaching over and unlocking the door.

"Thanks," Sam told her, sliding into the front seat, and throwing his duffle into the back seat.

"No problem." She threw the car in drive and sped down the highway. "So what's your name Cali?" She asked a few minutes later.

"Uh Cali?" Sam asked, and she smiled her own dimpled smile. "It's Sam, Sam Winchester." He told her, laughing. "You?"

"Oh, my name's Erin." She told him, and when she saw him looking at her, she added, "Erin King." Sam nodded, and looked out the window. "So, why are you go to California? Want to be an actor or something?" She asked, trying to break the silence that permeated the car.

"Actor? Me? No!" Sam laughed, looking back at her. "I actually got into Stanford. Complete scholarship." Sam told her after a minute.

"Wow, you must be a freakin' genius!" She exclaimed looking back at him. "Your family must have been proud. So why are you hitchin'? She asked, and almost immediately regretted it, as she saw the look of pain cross his face.

"Actually, my dad, he didn't much like the fact that I was leaving. He got real mad, and told me if I walked out, not to come back." Sam told her quietly, withdrawing into himself.

Erin looked at him, and felt guilty for bringing the subject up. She reached over to comfort him, taking her eyes off the road, and trying to convey her sorrow for him.

Sam looked up at her, and smiled. His smile was strained, but it was still a smile, and she quirked her lips in response. "You okay?" She asked.

The only answer she got was the horrifying screech of metal impacting metal, as they were hit head on by a truck.

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**A month after Sammy left...**

"You think he's okay?" Dean asked his father, for the umpteenth time since Sam had left. He was worried about the kid, but he was also angry. Angry that Sam had left, that he had turned his back on the family. Worried that Sam was alone out there, that he didn't have anyone to watch his back... That he hated Dean.

"I'm sure he's fine," John growled, and looked back at the computer he had been sitting at for the past two hours.

Dean sighed and turned away. He knew Sam was probably mad at him for not siding with him for at least some of the argument, and although he wanted to talk to his brother, there was a good possibility that Sam wouldn't want to talk to him. "I'll wait in the Impala," Dean said and turned to walk away.

"I shouldn't be too much longer here." John answered, heaving a sigh of his own. "Dean, you can listen to some of your music if you want to, at least until I get out there." He said, and threw the keys to the Impala to Dean.

"Yes sir," the answer was quiet and barely audible as Dean walked out the front door of the library.

Dean reached down and grabbed his box of cassettes, as he settled into the passenger seat of the Impala, finally settling on a 'Creedence Clearwater Revival' tape. He opened the case and pulled out the tape, but with the tape came a piece of paper, which landed in Dean's lap.

Dean pushed the tape in, and as the beginning thrums to, 'Bad Moon Rising' started, he reached down and unfolded the paper, wondering what the hell it could have been.

'_Dean,_

_I know you probably hate me right now, or at least think that I hate you, but I wanted to tell you that it's okay. I don't hate you, and it's okay if you hate me. (...but only for a little while.)_

_If you're reading this, my talk with you and dad about Stanford didn't go so hot, and I left with a fight. Some words were probably said that I didn't mean, and if there was anything directed at you, I didn't mean it. _

_All my life you protected me, and I appreciate that Dean, I really do; I just think that it's time for me to protect myself. Time for me to go out on my own, learn some new things, and teach myself how to live and cope without dad, without __**you.**_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health, and I hope that I see you again._

_Take care big brother,_

_**Sammy... **__(I love you, jerk.)_

_P.S. If you still want to talk to me, I got a new cell. The number's 555-392-5073. If I don't hear from you, I'll know not to call._

Dean read the letter with emotion clogging his throat. Without hesitation, he dug his phone out of his pocket, and started to dial the number Sammy had left. He was about to hit the 'SEND' button when the phone rang in his hands.

Looking at the screen, Dean almost choked to see the number he had been dialing appear. '_Sammy had said he wasn't going to call.' _Dean thought, dread filling him.

"Hello?" Dean asked, putting the phone to his ear.

'_Dean Winchester?'_ A gruff voice asked, from the other side of the line.

"Yeah, who wants to know?" Dean asked, the possibilities running through his mind. Who had Sammy's phone? Was he hurt? Had he been kidnapped? What happened?

'_My name is Doctor Ryan from South Dakota Memorial Hospital. About a week ago, a young man was brought in, in critical condition after a car accident. We've been trying to reach anyone who might know him since then. Your name was in his phone list. We've been trying to reach you all week, but your phone has been turned off.' _The man on the other side of the phone told him, and Dean felt his heart clench in his chest. He had turned his phone off during the werewolf hunt he and his father had been on for the last week and a half.

"Is he okay?" Dean asked, and heard a sigh from the other side of the line.

'_Without verification of who you are, I can't tell you anything about his condition. If you were to come here to the hospital with identification, I can tell you more.'_ Doctor Ryan told Dean, and despite the fact that he was on the phone, Dean nodded.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Dean to the man, and hung up the phone. He shut off the car, and practically jumped out. Jogging up the front steps of the library, Dean opened the door, and about ran to his father. "Dad!" He called, his voice rough.

"What is it? What's wrong Dean?" John asked immediately seeing his son's distress.

"It's Sammy dad." Dean told him, and John scowled.

"I thought we just went over this Dean. Sam's-"

"In the hospital." Dean finished. His father looked as if he had been struck.

"Wha- why?" John asked, not able to keep the tremor from his voice.

"I got a call when I was out in the Impala, some man named, Doctor Ryan from South Dakota Memorial Hospital. He said that Sam was brought in a week ago in critical condition from a car accident." As he finished telling him what happened, John was already shutting down the computer, and getting ready to leave.

"Well it looks like we're going to South Dakota." John said even as he was sliding into the driver's seat of his Impala. He turned on the '67 classic and tore off down the road.

'_Hold on Sammy, we're comin'!'_

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A/N: And the cliffy queen is back! You know you love/hate me… Ha!

Bring on the Sammy angst!

Take care and review often…

OSS


	3. Chapter 3

Okay it's official, I hate this chapter and I hate my computer… But I love all you guys! I wasn't going to post this chapter, but since I couldn't think of anything else, I knew you guys would be mad if I didn't update soon… Then when I went to post, my computer wouldn't let me, which of course led to me screaming and hitting it, and then salting and burning it… But wouldn't yah know, it still came back to working order…

GRRR!

Anyway, onto chapter 3... (Which I have been trying to post for two days…)

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John and Dean Winchester walked into the South Dakota hospital on a mission. Their youngest family member was hurt, and they needed to be with him and see what they could do to help.

Walking up to the desk, both Winchesters were met with gawking stares, which were dutifully ignored. "Can you page Dr. Ryan, _please?"_ John asked, his voice sickeningly sweet as the receptionist scrambled to fulfill his request.

"Right away sir." Her own answer was straightforward and full of adoration as she drank in the site of the two tall, dark and handsome men.

"_Doctor Ryan to switch board. Dr. Ryan to switch board."_

The call rang out through the building and John nodded in satisfaction, walking over and taking a seat in the waiting area. His nerves were shot, and after driving eighteen hours straight, he was tired and cranky. All he wanted was to see his son, to make aure he was alright, or that he was at least going to make it.

_Apologize._

The word had been ringing through his head for weeks, but since Dean had told him about the phone call, the word had been a constant voice nagging inside of him. He felt guilty about all the things he had said, all the things he had done... Geez, he felt guilty about Sammy in general. The kid had done an awesome job with his studies and getting into Stanford on a full scholarship, but had he told him that?

_No, he was an arrogant ass who only thought about himself._

John put his head in his hands and sighed; it was going to be a long day.

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Dean paced the length of the waiting room. He had been over every step many times, but every thudding step he took seemed to pull at him. Nothing made the aching hole in his heart go away. The burning in his chest seemed to intensify with every passing second, and Dean felt like he couldn't breathe.

Sammy was hurt. He was lying all alone in a hospital, had been for over a week. When he had been in the accident, he had thought no one had cared about him. The last thing his _family_ had told him to do was to get out, and the fact that Dean hadn't done or said anything to his brother to tell him how proud he was, or how much he loved him; gnawed at Dean.

A graying doctor walked into the room, and over to the desk. He talked with the over animated receptionist, who pointed at Dean and John and the man nodded. He turned from the woman and walked over to the two Winchesters, giving them both tentative smiles.

"Are you family of Samuel Winchester?" The man asked, his voice gentle and soothing in the midst of the fear and worry that seemed to roll of Dean and John.

"I'm Dean, his brother, and he's Sam's father," Dean said, indicating to John with the wave of a thumb.

"I'm Geoff Ryan. I've been working on Sam's case since he was brought in, and I've got to say that I'm glad I finally got a hold of you yesterday." Dean and John nodded, both of them also glad that Ryan had reached them.

"Is Sammy okay?" Dean asked, not wanting to seem to persistent, but at the same time, he was Sam's big brother, and it was his responsibility to make sure Sammy was okay. He had always been the one to help Sam, to protect him, to make him feel better when he was sick or hurt, and this time was no different.

"Well, Samuel is still in the ICU." Geoff told them, not really knowing how to soften the blow. "He took a major hit to his head, and suffered a subdural hematoma, in addition to a severe concussion." Dean stumbled back and fell into a chair, not knowing how to take the news. Seeing the move of the younger man in front of him, Geoff sighed, knowing it was hitting the man hard, but continued all the same.

"When the truck hit the car Sam was in, the glass shattered, and combined with the way Sam's head jerked, a large piece of the broken glass was lodged into the upper part of Sam's neck. the blood lose from the wound was extensive, and when he was brought in, his heart wasn't beating, it hadn't been for a little over five minutes. After he arrived, it took us a little of seven minutes to get it started again, meaning that Sam's heart hadn't been beating for a little over twelve minutes." Geoff told the Winchesters softly, and the reaction was instantaneous. Dean gasped and paled, while sinking farther into the chair; and John seemed to sway on his feet, and almost crumpled to the floor, his hand shooting out at the last second to grab the door in a white-knuckled grip.

"But that means- I mean was there any brain damage?" John asked, his voice as shaky as his legs.

"Telling damage to the brain is a hard thing to do. WE really won't know what kind of damage was done to his brain until Sam wakes up." The diction of the words was soft, but their effect was anything but, and Geoff could see that each new problem he listed added a new weight to both men, wiping away any thoughts that Sam was just going to get better.

"His last serious injury was a break to his femur in two places. We had to surgically pin the bone back together, and Sam has a cast on his leg, that will have to be there for ten to twelve weeks. Other than that there were cuts and bruises, nothing more than a few stitches and some bandages didn't help." Geoff finished with a smile.

Dean nodded, and stood. "Can we see him?"

"Right now Sam's gone for CAT scan, but after he's brought back you will be able to sit with him for the ten minutes an hour that's allowed." Geoff said. "I'll get a nurse to show you to his room, I've got to go see another patient." Dean and John nodded.

"Thank you so much for saving my brother." Dean said, as John mimicked the statement with the thanks for saving his youngest son.

"It's not a problem, I just hope he gets better with time." Geoff said with a nod, and walked away.

Dean nodded to himself. '_God Sammy, why does it always have to be you?'_

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A/N: Crappy wasn't it? Anyway have a great Independence Day yah'all, and don't get too drunk, if you do, stay inside and don't hurt yourselves…

Take care and review often!

OSS


	4. Chapter 4

-1Hey guys… I really appreciate the reviews, and I figured out my schedule for this fic. Depending on work, I will update every two to three days…

Hope you enjoy…

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A petite blond walked over to the Winchesters, and with a curt nod and a flash of a smile, she beckoned them to follow her. Both John and Dean followed the woman without question, not wanting to upset anyone that gave them a chance of seeing Sammy. The nurse led them through a maze of corridors that made both men wonder if they were ever going to be able to find their way out.

The blond finally stopped at an automatic door, and pressed the blue handicap button to open the door. After it was open wide enough for her to pass through, she continued on, not bothering to check that both men were still following her, knowing that neither man would leave without seeing their family member.

She walked down to the end of the hall, and opened a door for them, pointing to show that they should go in. "Thank you," Dean and John told her at the same time and she smiled confusedly. Using sign language, she pointed to her ears and her mouth, telling them that she was deaf anf couldn't talk. They nodded and John signed 'thank you,' to her, surprising Dean.

'_Since when did he know sign language?'_

Dean turned his attention back to the open door, and walked through it. His eyes immediately settled on the prone form of his younger brother. Sam was pale, dark circles lining his under eyes, and his veins stood prominent against his skin tone. But Dean's attention didn't linger on Sam's pallor for too long, changing to study his neck.

A long tube was inserted at the bottom of his neck, connecting to a ventilator, in an obvious tracheotomy. The skin above the tube was bandaged, probably from the surgery after removing the glass, and Dean sighed in understanding. Sammy hadn't been able to breathe on his own, and threading an endotracheal tube down his throat wasn't an option with his wounds, meaning that cutting a hole in his throat and inserting the tube that way would be the best way to help Sam.

Just because he understood it, didn't mean he liked it.

This was his baby brother. _His Sammy. _He hadn't been there when Sam needed him, and now Sam was in the hospital, probably thinking that his family still hated him, that no one would care either way if he was hurt. Well it wasn't true, and even without the note that Sammy had left, Dean had never, _could _never really hate Sam. It was a force of nature, big brothers loved their little brothers, and nothing would ever change that.

He just wished that Sam knew that was how he felt. That no matter what, Dean was still his big brother, and would do anything for him.

Dean let out a breath, and took Sam's limp hand in his own. Even if Sam was unconscious, and didn't know that Dean and his father were there, Dean was going to do everything possible to make sure that he comforted the kid. It worked both ways, comforting Sam, and Dean at the same time, both making sure that the other was really there.

There was a _thud _as something hit the glass of the window, and Dean and John both looked up, curious as to what would have made that sound. A small brunette stood outside, one hand raised to knock on the glass, and the other hanging in a sling. She smiled as she saw them, and Dean smiled back, while John just stared.

Dean gave Sam's lax hand a squeeze, and followed his father out into the hall, wondering what the woman wanted. The small woman gave both of the Winchesters a judging smile before holding out her hand to them. John watched the appendage warily as Dean reached out to take the soft hand in his own, giving his father a annoyed shake of his head.

"Erin King," she told them without preamble, looking at them in expectation.

"Dean Winchester, and this is my father, John Winchester." Dean said, and Erin's face darkened. Dean was curious about the abrupt change in her as their names were mentioned, but he let it go. "Um, no offense, but what do you want?"

"Oh, I just wanted to check on Sam. I've been up to see him everyday since we crashed, and I just wanted to see if he was getting any better." Erin told them, sincerity clear in her voice.

"Wait, you were the one driving when the accident happened?" John asked, incredulity and anger evident in his tone. "Why the hell would you show your face around here, after you were the one that hurt Sammy in the first place?" John asked, rage filling the words.

Erin looked taken back, and Dean could see her snap. "_Excuse me?!" _Erin asked, her words long and drawled in a New Jersey accent. "What do you mean after _I _ hurt him? The accident was caused by a drunk driver, who blew threw a red light, and plowed into us! It was **not **my fault, and I won't have you blaming this on me!" Erin was shaking with her anger.

"I'm-" John started, trying to apologize for his harsh words and ghastly drawn conclusions.

"Don't," she cut him off. "You say that I was the one that hurt Sam. What about you?" She asked, trying to keep her voice down and not disturb the rest of the ICU patients. "Sam told me how you threw him out, after he _dared _to get grades good enough to get into Stanford on a full ride scholarship. Do you even know how much you hurt him?" She asked, really wanting to know.

"Now you look here," John started, raising a hand to point at her, as Dean stood by and watched impassively.

"Don't you cut me off!" Erin told him, raising her own finger to point at him. "I walk in here to find out how Sam is doing, happy to see that someone is finally here that loves him, and you, not _even_ knowing me, accuse me of harming him! I don't take well to being blamed for something that I didn't do, and I especially don't like hypocritical people who think they know everything, and can take out there troubles on others."

Both Winchesters looked shocked, and Dean looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or applaud. "Look-" John started for the third time.

"And _lastly,"_ Erin hissed, "Don't you ever, and I mean _ever, _talk to me like that again! Do you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am!" Both Winchesters agreed immediately.

"Good, cause next time I'll call my father and brother. They're in the service, and both are, _real _protective of their baby girl."

"That explains it," John mumbled to himself.

"Explains what?" Erin asked, glaring at the eldest Winchester.

"The attitude." He finished.

"Well daddy always said, '_if you're gonna do somethin', make sure you make an impact!'"_ She told them, and both men nodded. "Anyway," she continued, "how _is _Sam doin'?"

Both Dean and John sighed. "The same huh?" She asked, and both men nodded.

_It was gonna be a _long _day._

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So I hope you liked… Please review and let me know…

Take care and review often,

OSS


	5. Chapter 5

So sorry that it has taken so long to post this chapter… I had to install an air conditioner into my 'writing room.' But _**that **_is not an excuse…

I love you guys, your reviews are very inspiring…

Enjoy…

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Dean sighed and ran a hand through his cropped hair. He had been sitting by Sam's bedside for the three days that it had been deemed Sam would be allowed to have constant visiting with family. No amount of his father's pestering had been enough to get him to leave for more than a few minutes. The only times that he had left his little brother's side had been to take a shower in the nurse's locker room, or to go and get food for himself from the vending machine or the cafeteria. 

The day before, Dean had come back from one of trips to the shower to find his father standing over Sam, brushing away his bangs and mumbling something to his little brother. It wasn't an occurrence that was uncommon since they had arrived, and Dean had moved to sit in the chair he had occupied almost constantly.

When Dean had heard what his father had been murmuring to his brother, he had finally let all the anger and fear he had felt since his brother had left go.

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"_Sammy," John sighed, running his hands through his youngest son's hair. "God Sammy, I knew you shouldn't have gone. If you had stayed home, none of this would have happened." John told Sam, and Dean growled._

"_If he had stayed home?" Dean asked incredulously, and John turned to him. "You can't seriously be blaming Sammy for this can you?"_

"_Well, if he had stayed home, he wouldn't be hurt right now, hell the accident probably wouldn't have even happened if he hadn't been in Erin's car." John said, and reached to put a hand on Dean's arm, while still running the other hand through Sam's unruly locks._

"_Get away from him," Dean ground out, and his father stepped away in shock._

"_What?" John asked, shocked and confused at his oldest' behavior. _

"_You heard me," Dean growled. "You stay the hell away from him. You haven't acted like a father to him in years. You've always put your wants and needs ahead of his, and it's going to stop, _right _now!"_

"_Dean-" John warned._

"_Don't you 'Dean' me. You damn well know that Sam would be fucking depressed right now if he had stayed 'home.' And what home? We haven't had a home since mom died," Dean paused as his father flinched. "Our "homes" for the past nineteen years have been shit-box motel rooms, with water stains for decorations. Oh yeah once in a while you get an apartment, but even those aren't homes. They're more like boxes that smell bad and don't have enough room."_

_John let out his own growl and stepped threateningly towards his oldest. "Now you look here, I-"_

"_No! You look here old man. I'm glad that Sammy wanted to make something better of himself, and you should have been too. But you, you have to act all high and mighty, like it's your way or the effing highway. You're the only who pushed Sammy out, you're the one who told him never to come back, and you're the reason, Sammy's lying there fighting for his life!" Dean yelled, clenching his hands into fists._

"Just," Dean sighed after a minute, "just leave why don't you?" All the fight had gone out Dean, and he slumped into the chair at Sam's side, focusing his attention on his younger brother, and effectively cutting his father out.

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His father had deserved what he'd gotten, and for once, Dean was relieved to have finally told his father exactly how he felt. He had owed it to Sam, he had owed the tongue lashing to his father for a long time, and it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders when he had finally snapped. 

Dean turned his attention back to the still form of his little brother and sighed again. Sammy was too young to be hurt this badly. He was too young to be dying… 'He's too young for a lot of things,' Dean thought to himself.

"Hey Sammy," Dean started, threading his fingers through Sam's. "How you doin' little brother?" Dean took the momentary pause that he had every time he had a one-sided conversation with Sam and went on. "Well the doctor says that you haven't improved, but that you definitely haven't gotten worse, and that's good news right?

"Sorry that Dad hasn't come to see you, but if you heard what I told him yesterday, then you know that I told him to go, and it's not his fault that he's not here, it's mine." Dean took a deep breath, and resumed pushing his hand through his brother's hair. "I'm kinda glad that he hasn't come back yet though, I don't really think that I feel comfortable as your big brother, letting him back in here just yet, and you know how protective I can be," Dean said with a smirk, remembering all the times he had beat the snot out of someone just for saying something mean to his little brother, and his father had crossed the line the night had forced Sam to go.

"I bet your in their sulking that you can't get your geek on, aren't cha?" Dean smirked, knowing that he never would have gotten away with that comment if Sam had been awake. "I bet you might have even gotten a girl at Stanford, they're all as freaky smart as you, probably even uglier than you when torn away from a book, huh?" Dean continued to talk to his brother, hoping that it would help him heal, that it would help Sam know that he didn't hate him, that he never could.

C'mon little brother…

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John Winchester stood outside his youngest son's room with a grim smile on his face. He had been standing there since Dean had started his one sided conversation with Sammy, and though he couldn't hear everything that was being said, he hoped that Dean was telling Sam to get better, and that his stubborn youngest would take his brother's words to heart. 

He watched for a few more minutes, then turned away, and headed toward the cafeteria, needing some caffeine and something for his empty stomach. As he walked, John thought about the things he had said to his youngest, and the reaction Dean had when he had heard his words. Dean had been right to tell him off, what he had been saying to Sam had been wrong, and though he hadn't realized it at the time, he certainly did now.

'Please forgive me Sammy…'

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A/N: So yes it was short, but I kind of liked this chapter. I liked the way I wrote Dean's reaction, I figured that it was past due time for John to get it from Dean, and I really love protective Dean. So excuse my babbling about how much I like this chapter… 

Don't be deterred, press the button and one reaction occurs… I LOVE REVIEWS!

Take care and review often,

OSS


	6. Chapter 6

Okay guys... Here's the latest chapter, and I want to say that I gave you a hint at what would happen when Sammy woke up, in chapter 4 I think...

Well enjoy...

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**Three Weeks Later:**

Dean sat watching his brother avidly. Sam had been showing signs of waking for the past three hours, and the doctor told him that it was only depending on his stubborn ass little brother, when his eyes would open. His father stood across from him, his eyes tracking Sam's every move in his own vigil. The truce they had going for the past week was still tetchy at best, but Dean wasn't about to deny the man the joy of seeing his son's eyes open after Sam had been in a coma for over a month.

"Sammy?" Dean called as he watched his eyelids flicker. The name didn't seem to cut through to his brother, but as Dean squeezed his hand, Sam's head turned toward his.

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Sam struggled from the inky darkness that surrounded him. It gripped him, not letting go, but Sam, as stubborn as he was with the Winchester genes firmly implanted in him, fought his way from it.

Sam's eyes fluttered, and he winced from the bright light. He felt a squeeze on his hand, ad instinctively turned toward the familiar calloused palm.

'_Dean.'_ His mind supplied, and he smiled inwardly. He idly wondered why Dean wasn't talking to him, but figured that he would find out soon enough. He pushed the heavy lids of his eyes filly open, and blinked as the fuzzy world tried to right itself. His brother was on his right, and his father stood to his left.

Sam turned his full attention to his brother, giving the man a small smile. Dean's lips were moving, but Sam didn't hear any sound coming from him. In fact when he thought about it, he didn't hear, _anything. _He started to panic when he looked at his father, and realized that he too was moving his lips with no sound coming from them.

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"Sam?" Dean asked, when he noticed that through all the questions he had asked his brother, there hadn't been a response to any of them. When he looked into Sam's eyes, there was panic set there, a sheer, stark fear that seemed to run into his very soul.

"Sammy?" His father asked, seeing the same thing.

Sam squeezed his hand tighter, and reached his other hand up to his ear, then placed it to his mouth. John seemed to understand his youngest son's distress, and tapped Sam on the shoulder to get his attention.

'Can you use sign language?' John signed, looking imploringly at Sam as Sam watched the motions, a light sparking in his confused eyes.

'Yes,' Sam signed back, glad that father Jim had made his take that class while he and Dean had been stuck at his house during a werewolf hunt of his father's. He had only ever used the skill to talk to a girl named Jeanine whenever he was at the pastor's house for a hunt.

'Can you hear me?' John signed, and when Sam looked up, he saw that his father's lips were once again moving.

Shaking his head, Sam signed back an affirmative, 'No.' He looked liked a confused puppy for a moment, before he signed, 'What happened? Why can't I hear?' His eyes shown with fear, and both Dean and John's hearts twisted.

'You were in an accident.' Came the reply. John looked down at his hands for a second 'The doctors didn't think that you were going to make it. You took a pretty good knock to the head, and you weren't breathing for over twelve minutes," John took a deep breath, and looked his son in the eyes before continuing. 'The doctor said that there was a high chance of brain damage, and the fact that you can't hear confirms it. I think you hearing is the brain damage he was talking about.'

'I want to talk to him.' Sam signed adamantly. 'Or sign to him,' the look on his face conveyed the sheepishness that his tone normally would have, and John laughed, while Dean gave his brother a confused smile.

'I think that can be arranged.' John gave his youngest son a smile and turned to walk to the nurses station.

As the brother's were left alone, Dean fidgeted, not knowing how to talk to his brother. He wished that he had taken Jim's advice all those years ago and learned to sign, but his teenage mind had told him that was time better spent in the company of women.

The elder Winchester looked around the room for something to use as a means of communication. When he spotted the hospital issue pad, he grabbed it and pulled a pen out of pocket. _You okay?_ Dean scribbled on the pad, and handed it to Sam, who smiled when he saw what his brother wrote.

Sam wrote something down, then seemed to think for a minute and wrote something else. _Yeah, I'm okay. How long since the accident happened?_ Dean read when he reached for the pad.\

_It's been a little over a month Sammy-boy... _Dean's message hinted at sarcasm, and when Sam looked up to see the familiar shit-eating grin plastered on his older brother's face, he grinned, trying to think of a good response.

_Sammy-boy, huh? Would have thought you could come up with a better response than that, Yogi._

_Shut up, bitch._

_Stuff it jerk-wad._

_Eat me princess._

_Eat yourself man whore. _Dean looked up from the paper with a shocked expression marring his features. He looked as if he were going to say something to Sam, who wouldn't understand it anyway, but the door opened before he could.

A tall graying man stepped in the room behind his father, and Sam tensed. 'This is doctor Ryan.' John signed to Sam, hoping to relieve some of the tension in the room. 'He's been your doctor since the accident.'

'What does he say?' Sam asked, a skeptical look on his face.

His father talked to the man before nodding and looking back at Sam. 'He says we need to run some tests, but he thinks that you hearing lose may be permanent, after looking at previous scans.' John signed, and Sam took a sharp breath.

_He was never going to hear again..._

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A/N: So what did you think... There's only one chapter left...

Take care... And as alway review often,

OSS


	7. EPILOGUE

Hey all... I just wanted to say that I am so sorry that it took so long to get this chapter up... I thought I had posted it on Sunday, and I looked at my stories, and found that I hadn't... My bad!

I also got a PM last chapter, and I am also very sorry that I forgot to write that Sammy had the tracheotomy taken out... I'm glad she wrote me, and I got that cleared up... Thanks **Dawn N!**

Anyway, thanks bunches for all the reviews... Enjoy!

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**Four Years Later:**

Sam Winchester walked down the path away from the library at Stanford University. He was headed to the apartment that he shared with his lovely girlfriend, and soon to be fiance, Jessica Moore. They had been living together since the fall of their sophomore year, and Sam was so glad that he had found a woman like Jess, she had been patient with him through the years, learning sign language just for him.

Sam could remember getting the tests back four years ago, telling him that he would never be able to hear again, and though adjusting to the lose of his sense had been hard, his father, Dean, and eventually Jess had helped him get through it. The family had decided that it would be best for Sam to stop hunting, and in the end Sam had taken Stanford up on their scholarship offer, with his father and Dean more receptive to the idea the second time around.

Sam had decided to keep going in Law, knowing that it was going to be hard to be a lawyer with his impairment, but he also knew that if he fought, he could make it, and the end result would make all the trouble worth it. Even if all he was, was a mediator between deaf people and their lawyers, Sam knew that he still wanted to go through with the schooling, knowing that he would still be helping people in the end.

Sam sighed and walked up the steps of his apartment building. He still had to get showered and dressed before he and Jess met his father and Dean for dinner in an hour and a half. Shoving a hand in his pocket, Sam felt for the reassuring weight of the velvet box settled there, and smiled, his nerves calmed for the moment. He had told no one of what he planned to do, except for his best friend, who had helped him with getting ready to speak the words to Jess; and his nerves had been all over the place all day.

Sam took his hand from his pocket and pulled his keys out. He opened the door to the apartment, and went inside. He was met by Jess a few feet in the door, and smiled as her warm arms surrounded him. Sam pulled back, and kissed her, happy to see the woman he had been in love with for so long.

'I love you,' He signed to her as they pulled apart, and she smiled.

'I love you too." She gave him another kiss on the cheek and looked at her watch. 'You better get ready, or we're gonna be late,' she signed, and Sam nodded.

Walking to the bathroom, he found that she had laid out his clothes for dinner, and smiled, knowing that the woman was just trying to keep him from making a fashion disaster. He stripped and stepped into the warm water, the pelting drops soothing the aches from his shoulders. Turning his face into the spray, Sam closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, thinking about what would, or what would _hopefully,_ happen at dinner.

Sam dressed in the black slacks and moss green dress shirt Jess had laid out for him, and walked into the living room of the apartment, finger combing his hair. He sat down, and waited for Jess to reappear from the bedroom where she had gone to get dressed. Bending down to tie his shoes, Sam felt the box once again settling itself against his thigh, and prayed to anyone that was listening that Jess would say yes.

Sam stood when he felt the vibrations on the floor as Jess walked out of the bedroom and down the hall toward him. Sam's breath caught when he saw her. 'You're so beautiful,' he signed as he walked to her, and kissed her. She wore a short white wrap around dress with spaghetti straps. He hair hung in long curls down her back with the exception of a few strands around her face.

'_Wish me luck, mom.'_ Sam thought as they walked out the door together.

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Dinner had been a fun affair. All three Winchesters had been dressed similarly, which made Sam wonder if Jess had laid out Dean and his father's outfits as well. Between the three of them, their wasn't even an ounce of fashion sense.

Sam looked around the table, taking in the three people he cared the most for in the world, and took a deep breath. 'Jess, I have something to ask you,' Sam signed, and she nodded, turned her full attention to him, while his father and brother did the same.

Pushing out his chair and getting down on one knee, Sam pulled the box out of his pocket, all the while hoping for the best. "Jessica Lee Moore, will you marry me?" Sam asked. His tone was a little off, and his voice was louder than it should have been, but Sam didn't hear it, and he hoped that he had said the words right more than anything else.

Jessica looked downright shocked, and Sam squirmed a little. Tears swam in her eyes and she smiled as she held out her hand. Sam slid the ring on her finger and stood. She jumped in his arms so hand, he arms fell over, but he held her tight all the same. 'You talked?' She signed once they had pulled apart, and Sam nodded.

'Yeah, Zack helped me.' Sam signed back, and gave her another smile before turning to his father and Dean.

'You dog you. I'm happy for you Sammy.' Dean hugged him hard and Sam smiled.

'Thanks.' Turning to his father, he saw the man's eyes water.

'Sammy, I'm so proud of you. Congratulations son.' John signed and grabbed Sam in a bear hug, not caring who saw the act. "And you," John said turning to Jess. "I couldn't wish for a

better daughter in law!" Sam smiled as he read his father's lips, and watched Jess hug him.

Sometimes, things did work out.

END.

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A/N: Hey what can I say... Sometimes there needs to be a sappy and happy ending... And anyway, this story was not my best work ever, but I was so happy with the support you all gave me.

Take care and as always, Review Often...

OSS


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